Second Annual Winter Veil Special
by Zarabethe
Summary: Set five years after the first Winter Veil Special, we again visit the Silverleaf/Woodstalker family during the holidays to get a dose of dysfunctional love. Part of the Scepter Continuum.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: Welcome everyone to the Second Annual Winter Veil Special! We're starting a little early this year as I ended up with six chapters instead of five. This is my Christmas gift to you, my readers: a big fat dose of all your favorite characters getting together to celebrate the holidays with each other. Laughter, tears, and a whole lot of love will follow.**

 **This is set five years after the previous Winter Special. To catch up, feel free to give that one a read, as well as the one-shot Hope Springs, which is set about a year before this story. There is an illustration up on my deviantArt page, username zarabethedraws.**

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The crisp winter wind ruffled through her head feathers as Lorel soared over Elwynn Forest. It was always too cold here for her taste, but this afternoon, with weak sunlight filtering through the clouds and the promise of snow later this evening, it felt pretty damn nice. Of course, that was probably more to do with the quiet around her than the temperature.

Elwynn Forest in the dead of winter was mostly colorless, brown and grey interspersed with the occasional dark green of a conifer. Even the massive human capital of Stormwind, which she had just left, looked even more grey than usual. It was a far cry from the vibrant jungle that she now called home, but here among the low-hanging clouds, she thought she could see some of the draw to it. It was quiet here. The monotony seemed to have more privacy to it and the ability to get lost in a crowd. Lorel snorted to herself, or at least the bird equivalent, as she performed a lazy circle over a particularly dense section of trees that hid away a small clearing at the ground level. She could appreciate the quiet for a few days, but living here would drive her mad.

Smoke floated up from the chimney of a small cottage nestled in the center of the clearing tucked back into the forest. Lorel shied away from it and instead landed at the front gate. It had been years since she had taken a dare that had ended with her hitting the ground as if she had jumped, and the transition from stormcrow to night elf still gave her a twinge in her ribs. She had practiced over and over at shifting forms until it was fluid, until she could dive right at the ground and land on her own two feet, but she would always live with that physical reminder.

She shivered as she pulled her heavy cloak around her. This was the part of Elwynn she had no problem leaving behind. She'd take the humid, tropical jungle over icy winters any day. She hurried her pace as she approached the cottage. It smelled like snow, both up in the air and down below, and not just a light dusting either. She was glad she had packed for a few extra days away, just in case.

She heard wailing before she was halfway to her brother's front door. The door opened and the wailing intensified over the soft sound of her sister-in-law's voice.

"There she is, Zane, there's Momma."

Zarabethe stood in the doorway, wearing a heavy shawl against the cold. Perched on her hip, crying as if his heart would break, was her four year old son, Zane. He had an entire washcloth stuffed into his mouth with both hands, and as soon as he saw her, he wiggled and fought his aunt to get down.

"Zane, you aren't wearing-" Zarabethe began and then sighed and shook her head. Lorel hurried the last few steps and scooped her barefoot boy up in her arms. He snuggled down under her cloak, wrapping his legs around her waist and burying his face in her shoulder.

"Aw, it's okay baby, I missed you too."

His wailing died down to a muffled whimper as she staggered up the path. He was a solid boy, with huge feet and hands. She would never admit it to Tzun, but she was more than a little relieved when Zane had been born with ten fingers and toes, instead of three like his father. Not that she wasn't in love with her husband's hands as much as any other part of him, but it was hard enough to keep shoes on the boy as it was.

"Thank Elune you're back, your son hates me."

Her sister-in-law held the door open for her as she came in. The fire had been built up while she had been gone and the air inside was more to her liking. Zarabethe closed the door behind them with a wry look. Lorel planted an exaggerated kiss on her son before falling into the nearest chair with him.

"Well, he's not exactly a big fan of me right now either."

To emphasize her point, Zane gave a renewed wail as he wriggled around in her lap and tried to stuff the washcloth harder against his swollen gums. At three-quarters night elf, Zane looked the part. His skin was halfway between dark blue and lavender. His hands and feet, although large, had five digits each. His eyes glowed golden, like hers. Little bits and pieces, however, betrayed his Darkspear heritage. Most obviously was his bright red hair, already thick and coarse. Tzun'do's mother had strong hair genes, that's for sure. The other obvious marker was the cause for his current distress; Zane was right now teething his tusks. This was apparently really late for it-Tzun had admitted to her that he thought that Zane was going to have teeth like hers. Then his incisors came in, not any sharper than a human's and he was really confused. By all rights, the boy should have either fangs or tusks. But slowly, Zane's face began to swell and his tusks started to make themselves known. One was very close to erupting, and Lorel couldn't be more relieved. Zane was never happy. He clung to her or Tzun like an oversized monkey, and getting him to eat was a nightmare. She was more than ready for this to be over.

Zarabethe brought another cold washcloth in, and with some coaxing, they got her son to relinquish the current one to switch them out.

"Did you talk to Brekke?"

Lorel nodded as she wrapped Zane up in a blanket like a cocoon.

"She's working a double shift tonight, but she should be able to get away for dinner. She said she has tomorrow off, and she is going to spend it here."

Zara's face only fractionally showed displeasure, which to those who knew her, meant she was sorely disappointed. She settled in the chair opposite Lorel, wrapping her shawl around her and curling her feet up under it.

"I hope the snow doesn't settle in too quickly. I don't want her to fly in a blizzard."

"She'll be careful." Lorel rocked Zane, who felt like he was finally going to sleep. "You know she's the only one of us who has any common sense."

Zarabethe snorted in agreement. "Has she heard anything from Genne?"

Lorel glanced out the window to avoid the vulnerability in her sister-in-law's eyes. She felt like a coward for doing so.

"Sorry Zara."

Zarabethe's face pinched, and she stood abruptly and laid her wool wrap in the chair

"She'll come home when she's ready. No point in fussing about it."

She strode to the kitchen, and Lorel rocked Zane a bit longer before getting up to follow.

Genne had always been a free spirit, and of the two Silverleaf daughters, the most rebellious. Lorel admitted to stoking that somewhat: she saw so much of herself in Genne, and spending time around a miniature version of herself was just fun. But where as she grew up in a strict household that quickly turned stifling and then shifted downward into dangerous, Genne grew up in a house full of love. Parents, aunts and uncles, and soon little cousins all adored her, and she was still distant and kept to herself. She had joined the Stormwind Army, gone through her adult trials, and then just disappeared. She knew that she and Zara had butted heads on more than one occasion, and her brother threatened to ship her off to Stranglethorn more than once, but they loved her as fiercely as any normal parents would. Genne didn't seem to care about that, though. She sent letters every now and then. She used to come back at least for both Winter's Veil and the Kal'dorei New Year, and most of the time, her birthday. But the last anyone had seen of her was eight months ago. No word, not even a message sent through Brekke.

Lorel took the news personally. Brekke might have been one of her apprentices in the druidic arts, but Genne was her little blue-haired clone. She worried about Genne as much as she would her own daughter: after all, she had helped raise her. Zarabethe could pretend all she wanted that she had enough patience to wait for Genne to decide to come home, but Lorel had never been a patient person. Wherever Genne was at, she better stay hidden, because if Lorel caught wind of her getting into trouble, she had no problem dropping everything to drag her ass home.

Zane was finally asleep, so she eased him down into the chair and went to the kitchen. Zarabethe was checking on the boar roasting in the oven. They had made pies earlier in the day, and while they might not be as good as Brekke's, they would be sufficient, and Lorel was pretty proud of how symmetrical her apple pie crust had been.

"We have a small crowd tonight." Zara's voice was temporarily muffled, then she shut the stove and stood up. Lorel pretended not to see her red-rimmed eyes.

"Kalibose and Mae are staying home, since Mae's so close now. Once the snow settles down, I'll bring them some food."

"If there's any pie left after I get done with it."

"I made the chocolate one just for Mae, so you better save her a piece." Zarabethe pushed a coffee cup so it was in line with the others, then took them all out and re-organized them. "Tzun's not going to make it home in time, right?"

"Nah, you know his crazy mother's going to make him work the entire convention."

Her husband, Elune above she loved him, but whenever his mother said jump, he was there. She needed someone to work the entrance at a Cenarian Circle diplomacy convention, and no matter that it was the holiday, Tzun'do had agreed. He'd promised to try and leave early if possible, but she didn't expect to see him until she and Zane had already returned home. She tried not to be bitter about it: the woman only had one son, and no other living family. But as chummy as Tae'ra had acted toward Lorel, she got the feeling that she would always be considered the _second_ woman in her husband's life, and not the first.

Zarabethe continued making her list as she moved to the second shelf and tackled the plates.

"So just you and Zane, then Elf, me, and Brekke. Next year ought to be big though: we'll have Kalibose and Mae's little girl as well."

Pushing the final plate back into alignment, Zarabethe turned around and leaned against the counter.

"I think it's time Zane got a sibling."

Lorel snorted loudly. "You carry it then. Being pregnant is hard when you're short. Felt like I swallowed a goblin airship."

"What, more babies already? I can't keep up." Elforen came in the kitchen, rubbing his hands together from the cold. He had been out in the shop most of the day, but whatever he had been working on must be complete. He moved to wash his hands. Lorel glared daggers at the back of his head.

"Hell no, I can't control the one I have."

"That's because you gave birth to yourself." Her brother didn't have to look up for her to hear the smirk on his face. "That's what you get for being a terror."

"No, that's what I get for marrying a troll."

She had started to rise to the bait, to engage her brother in a battle of wits, but she was distracted by a commotion outside the the house. Zarabethe must had heard it too, because she started for the door. It sounded like heated arguing, and if Lorel was honest, one of the voices sounded a hell of a lot like her younger brother. Zarabethe glanced out of the window without upsetting the curtain, then grabbed her wool wrap and headed outside. Lorel peeked out the window in curiosity. Sure enough there was Kalibose, bundled up in enough warm clothes to look like a tall pile of laundry. He had his arm around Mae and was leading her in, but she could hear the muffled sounds of their voices from here: he was not happy about something. Mae looked radiant in the chill winter air. Her woolen hat hid most of her bright silver hair and her cloak couldn't even cover all of her belly. She was arguing with Kalibose, then abruptly stopped. He jumped to peer down in her face, obviously concerned, but the glare that she gave him was so severe that Lorel burst into cackling laughter from her vantage point. Nothing on Azeroth would ever delight her more than to see her happy-go-lucky sister-in-law put her brother in his place. Whatever she said worked: he listened as she spoke to him in a curt voice, and he asked a question, tapping the center of his forehead. She nodded, Kalibose threw his hands up in exasperation, and was looking quite sulky by the time they met Zarabethe at the door. Lorel opened the door and caught the tail end of their conversation.

"-couldn't bear sitting at home with just us during Winter Veil. I've still got a month, I'll be fine."

Zara helped Mae into the house, and caught Lorel's eye as she passed. She was concerned about the weather as well, but it was Mae's choice whether or not to travel this late in gestation. Kalibose stomped in the house, and Lorel pounced on him, punching him in the shoulder gleefully.

He scowled at her as he rubbed his arm. "Cut it out, brat, I'm not in the mood for it today. Hey Elf, where do you want me to tie up a mount? We rented a horse in Stormwind."

"I'll show you." Elforen tried to move past Lorel, but she stepped directly into his path. He raised an eyebrow, and without warning picked her up by the shoulders. Lorel yelped as she was dumped unceremoniously to the side so he could get to his winter cloak.

"That was uncalled for!"

Her older brother gave her a wink as he headed out the door. "Don't be in the way then."

Kalibose followed behind, with a distinctively smug look on his face. Lorel scowled at the closed door after them. She would get them back later.

She joined the other two women in the kitchen. Zarabethe was putting the kettle on for tea and Mae was sitting in a chair with her feet propped in a second one. Mae made a pained noise and shifted position with one hand on her belly.

"I don't think she liked the ride up here."

Lorel caught a good look at Mae's face as she helped herself to a pumpkin cookie from the tin on the counter. She could sound upbeat and chipper all she wanted, but Lorel could see the weariness in her face. She was exhausted. Probably mentally as well: after so many losses, Lorel imagined that it was hard to trust yet again. She listened to Zara and Mae's conversation as she licked sugar off her fingers. They were discussing mundanities such as diapers and winter wardrobes, and Lorel remembered what Zara had said earlier, about giving Zane a sibling. For a moment she felt a twinge of guilt. Here in this kitchen were two women who had much of their family choices taken away. Mae, through having trouble carrying a child to fruition, and Zarabethe, rendered barren by a devastating miscarriage. And here she had to faithfully take herbs and give Tzun'do the cold shoulder more often than she liked just to avoid having an entire litter already. She dug into the cookie tin again, and this time handed one to Mae, before stuffing another cookie in her face. She was grateful that her fertility chose to come in _after_ her wild years in Stormwind.

Zarabethe grabbed the cookie tin and moved it back.

"Save some for Brekke at least, pumpkin is her favorite."

Mae also licked the sugar off her fingers, and Lorel grinned at Zara's disapproving twist of her mouth.

"Is Brekke going to make it? What about Genne?"

"Brekke will be here for dinner, then she has to work tonight. She'll be here tomorrow though."

Zarabethe needlessly checked the boar roasting and her voice came back muffled. "I don't think Genne will be here."

Mae glanced up at Lorel and she shook her head. Don't push the subject. She set her feet on the ground and pushed herself to standing.

"Well I'll be happy to see Brekke, then. Can I help with something?"

"No!"

Both she and Zara jumped up and all but pushed Mae back down in the chair, despite her protests.

"Are you kidding? That baby's about to fall out of you!"

Zarabethe gave her an exasperated look. "Lorel means that with the snow coming in, we'd both be much more comfortable if you would take it easy."

Mae's face was rebellious, but she accepted her cup of tea with grace.

Dinner that evening was a muted affair. Brekke arrived a few minutes late, and by the way she had to lean on the door to keep the wind from blowing it open again, the storm was getting ready to move in. Lorel could feel the air currents moving around outside, and more than once, she got the urge to slip into cat form and prowl outside on the roof and watch it come in. She even walked all the way to the back door and stopped with her hand on the doorknob. She and Tzun'do often watched the weather that way, crouched against the slope of the roof and feeling the energy in the air. Lorel took her hand off the door and made herself turn back to the table. She was as independent as they came, but in these moments, she missed Tzun so terribly she wanted to cry.

The sound of laughter and silverware took her back to the living room. Zane had woken up from his nap in a much improved mood, and after eating a small mountain of mashed potatoes, he was now poking at the jellied cranberry tart on his plate suspiciously. Sweet thing that he was, he kept plucking at his uncle's sleeve and asking him questions about what _really_ was in it, and if there was cinnamon, and what _was_ cinnamon, and whether it had sugar because he liked sugar but Daddy didn't like it when he ate it out of the tin. Kalibose looked slightly uncomfortable at being seated next to his nephew, but he did answer his questions patiently and Lorel mentally gave him a few points in his favor.

She drug her chair over to where Brekke was taking a peek at Mae's baby, just in case. Lorel turned the chair around backward and leaned against the back as she watched. Although Brekke was not the most unconventional druid she had ever met (she once met one that taught himself to shapeshift into an _otter_ ) she definitely had her own style. From the beginning, she had little interest in changing her shape. Nearly every druid she had met had tried that straight off as soon as possible: who doesn't want to be a cat or bear? In fact, that was what nearly cost Brekke her adult trials: her difficulty in shifting fast enough. She made it though, barely, and as far as Lorel knew, never used her skill again except for travel purposes. She instead devoted herself to healing people. All druids had a sense of bravado: it's something that came naturally with having an innate talent that not everyone could do. But Brekke didn't care if she spent all day healing a person and they got up and walked away without an acknowledgment. If the person was healed, she was happy.

Of course, most healing druids were dabblers, and did a bit of everything. Brekke wanted to specialize. Specifically, in midwifery. She claimed it had nothing to do with the loss of her brother, but Lorel would never forget the look on her niece's face when she found her standing at the door staring into the kitchen at her mother. She did remember how full of fire Brekke had been when she came back from an internship at Raene's compound near Astranaar, and that seemed to be the catalyst. Brekke had not delivered any babies by herself yet, but she had attended lots of them, and Mae preferred seeing her during her pregnancy more than the other druids.

"She's sitting really low," Brekke murmured, her hand on Mae's belly and her eyes closed. "I wouldn't delay to head home after the storm is over."

"I'm not worried." Mae pulled her shirt back down and shifted position. Lorel wondered briefly if that's how she looked while pregnant: like she had inhaled an entire pumpkin and was trying to conceal it. Tzun'do was no help at all: the great hulking troll couldn't keep his hands off her while pregnant, and would be happy to have her waddling around round with child every day of the week. He was a _beast._

Lorel cast a glance around the rest of the table. The atmosphere was very subdued tonight. Zane wasn't talking too much with his sore mouth, Brekke was tired from her shift at the hospital, and both Elforen and Zarabethe were not-too-subtly watching the door. Elf was at least engaging Kalibose in conversation and trying not to look too often: Zara was sitting with her arms folded around her middle, half of her food still on her plate and not talking to anyone. She was looking a little worn lately as well: her hair was looking thin, and there were shadows under her eyes. Either Genne's absence was keeping her from sleeping, or there had been other things wearing on her mind as well.

"Um, Lorel?"

Lorel realized that Kalibose had been trying to get her attention for several minutes. A huge grin lit up her face: Zane had apparently, in the middle of finally eating his cranberry tart, leaned over against his uncle and fallen asleep. Kalibose had scooted over as far away from his nephew's sticky fingers and face as possible, and looked at him as if the child had leprosy, but Lorel clapped both her hands over her mouth in delight.

"Awwww, look at my sweet baby! Poor thing is just tuckered out."

Kalibose looked at her as if she were insane. "Can you get him off me? He's drooling."

Lorel was already getting up to do so, and with some difficulty, transferred the sleeping child into her arms. "You're going to have to get used to that pretty soon, you know that. Babies drool and puke and poop everywhere."

Her brother tried unsuccessfully to wipe cranberry off his sleeve. "Yes, but that will be my kid, not yours. Which means by default, she will be much more well-mannered."

Lorel snorted loudly as she staggered off to what used to be her old, and more recently Genne's room. Since she wasn't going to be here, Lorel decided to commandeer it for her and Zane. He snored open-mouthed against her ear, and didn't even wake a little bit when she laid him down and tucked the covers around him. Poor thing, didn't even make it until presents.

When she got back to the kitchen, everyone was even quieter. Brekke had slipped out the door to return to work. Zarabethe was starting to half-heartedly stack the dishes, and Elforen caught her shoulder and squeezed it. He then turned to address everyone else.

"Since Zane's asleep and Brekke won't be here until tomorrow, is anyone opposed to opening gifts tomorrow?"

Everyone murmured their consent. It wasn't any fun if everyone wasn't here.

Elforen looked relieved. "Good. Because I think I'd rather crack open a bottle of wine instead."

Lorel cheered as he went to go fetch a bottle from under the cabinet. Mae grimaced as she pulled herself to standing using Kalibose's arm. "That's my cue to go to bed then. Walk me there?"

Lorel watched as they slowly made their way to Brekke's old room. Mae looked pretty uncomfortable, and she thought about going after her, just in case, but the crack-hiss of the wine bottle opening and the sight of Zarabethe setting out glasses kept her in the kitchen. If Mae needed her, she'd say something, wouldn't she? In the meantime, Elforen had pulled out the good dwarven red, and from the down expressions at the table, it looked like what everyone needed.

After everyone had polished off the first glass, Kalibose came back in the room and sat down with them.

"How's Mae?" Zarabethe handed him a glass. He took a sip, and kept his eyes down on the table.

"She's asleep. I can tell she's in pain, but she won't let me do anything." He drug his hands through his stringy blue hair and shoved it out of his eyes. "I wish she would not have pushed to travel right now: going back is going to be so hard on her."

Lorel was feeling extremely charitable at the moment, with the wine buzzing warm in her stomach and her brother's kindness to her son earlier. She did not tease him as she tipped her glass back, catching the last few drops of her second glass.

"Want me to check in on her?"

Kalibose considered the bottom of his glass. "I've already fussed at her so much tonight, I think she would actually punch me if I sent you in right now. Maybe before you go to bed?"

His face was open in its worry, and as he glanced up at her, she could see the vulnerability reflected in his eyes. It startled her for a moment, to see a glimpse of the little brother she thought she lost still tucked away in the hard shell he normally presented to the world. She reached over and patted him on the arm, and he didn't even flinch away from her.

"Don't worry Brother, I'll keep an eye on her. We've all got your back."

There was a murmur of acknowledgment from both Elforen and Zarabethe, and Kalibose looked slightly embarrassed. He downed the rest of his glass of wine in one drink.

"Don't we have some cards to play or something, or are we just going to sit here and get emotional drunk?"

Lorel grinned widely as she jumped up the grab the deck she knew was kept in one of the drawers. "So eager for me to kick your ass tonight I see."

She sat back down and helped herself to another glass of wine as she shuffled. Both Zarabethe and Elforen leaned in, and she smiled as she dealt cards out to all of them.

"Don't think I won't take you for every cent you have just because it's Winter Veil."

"If you didn't play to win, I'd think you were ill." Zarabethe's statement was wry, but some of the despair started to leave her eyes as she picked up her cards.

Lorel hoped that between the alcohol and the game they were about to engage in, everyone's moods would improve. It was too rare, among the people that she frequently hung out with, to have such a close-knit family that genuinely enjoyed getting together for the holidays. In fact, before Elforen had taken the steps to start their own traditions, she would have believed that the phenomena just simply did not exist.

But now that she was a part of one, she didn't want to waste even one holiday in a grumpy state. She inspected her cards, waggled her eyebrows at her younger brother, and pushed her chips into the pile in the middle of the table.

How everyone else felt after she beat them soundly at cards, however, she had no control over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: I am totally posting this early as we are still at my sister's house due to not having any power. There is an illustration for the chapter up on deviantArt as well as drawings of the Silverleaf house and floor plan of their house by IRL Elforen.**

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Lorel had hoped, with all the food Zane had actually eaten instead of just cried about at dinner, that he would sleep that night. At least that was the half-formed thought that went through her mind as she consumed her fourth glass of wine. She'd at least remembered to creep into Mae's room and confirm that she was alright for her brother's peace of mind. And then have a fifth glass of wine, just to be sociable. The entire house was still when she made her way to the smallest bedroom in her brother's house. The room wavered in her vision as she carried the candle into the darkness, and she took special care to remember to blow it out before she sat down on the bed and pulled her boots off. She was not drunk. She refused to be drunk after so little, when she used to be able to drink men much larger than her under the table. But she was a little tipsy, and it might take awhile for her brother to forgive her if she burned his house down.

Zane had nested himself down in the middle of the bed and was completely bound in blankets. As carefully as she could, Lorel unwrapped and shoved him over until she could slip under a corner of the blanket. Almost as soon as her eyes closed, she went to sleep.

It had to be only a couple hours later that she groggily woke to Zane crying in her ear, and as she rolled over, a wayward elbow in the face. She sat up, her head still heavy from wine, and clumsily started to rub his back. He wasn't really awake, just fussing in his sleep, and soon his cries quieted into snores. By that time, however, Lorel was good and awake. She tucked the blanket around Zane and padded her way into the kitchen. Since Kalibose and Mae had joined them last night, there was no reason to save any dessert now. And chocolate pie sounded like the perfect thing to stave off her hangover.

She was still licking the chocolate from her fingers and thinking about having another try at sleep when she heard it. The snow was in full swing now—the wind beat against the sides of the house and one felt a seeping cold in one's feet if you got too far from the warmth of the fireplace. She was sure that if she were to look outside right now, there would be snow drifts up against the house several feet high. But the whistling, biting, wind did not sound at all like muffled high-pitched laughter or a rustling thump against the window.

Lorel immediately dropped down into cat form, the muzzy drunk feeling leaving her body. The noise had come from the room where Zane was. Lorel felt rage course through her veins as she slunk into the room to investigate, silent as a shadow. If someone tried to break into the room where her son was sleeping, there wouldn't be enough of them left to hang out in the front yard on a pike. It was hard to temper her anger while in cat form, but she held herself back as she approached the window. There was a brief rattle, another bump, too weak to do anything more than shake the glass, and then whoever it was moved on.

Lorel stood up on her hind paws and delicately sniffed the jamb. Her sensitive nose was awash with scents—ones that were familiar to her feline brain, like dust, snow, the scent of people, and old musty curtains. But also there were scents that she had to pick apart with her night elf brain—alcohol, some kind of exotic perfume, and then she got a nose full of something very familiar.

There was a commotion at the back door now, and less angry but more anticipatory, Lorel crept out of the room to follow. With some jingling of keys, hushed laughter and a few well-placed expletives, the door came open and two dark figures stumbled inside, bringing snow in with them. The shorter one pulled the door shut behind them and locked it, but they didn't make it too far. In spite of her height, the first figure pushed the other one up against the door, locking one arm above her head and sliding her other hand around her waist. Lorel could only see the back of her, but she could see what appeared to be bright blue hair, shaved on the sides and longer on top, then combed all to the front in a style that was often favored by trolls. Her outfit seemed more padded and bulky than it should have been even for the weather: quilted armor top with squared off shoulders, loose shirt, loose pants tucked into high boots. If Lorel could not clearly smell that the person was female, she would have assumed it was a boy that was pressing the other girl into the door. The entrapped figure giggled breathlessly, and Lorel heard her utter a string of words in what sounded like Pandaren in a high-pitched voice. The other girl slurred quietly.

"I have no idea what you just said but it's hot as fuck." She leaned in to kiss her.

Lorel had had about enough by then. Without any attempts to hide herself, she shifted into a night elf and strode towards the pair. Genne, because of course it was Genne, heard her and whipped around the second before Lorel seized hold of the sensitive part of her long ear and pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. Genne cried out in pain and the pandaren girl shrieked in fear. Before she could escape, Lorel grabbed the pandaren's collar and drug them both into the kitchen, too angry to even form a coherent sentence. She shoved the pandaren down into a chair, but Genne she kept hold of. Her niece wasn't that much taller than her, but with the grip she had on her ear, she sank down until they were eye-to-eye.

"It's not enough that you disappear without a word like some rogue's daughter," she spat out, too angry to make much more than a half-assed attempt to lower her voice. "But then you break into your parents' house, on Winter's Veil, presumably to steal from them."

Lorel felt acutely the urge to shift her form in her anger; a bear, a great cat, some physical manifestation of her rage. She made herself release Genne's ear before she drew blood. Her niece clapped a hand over her ear and pulled away, but she did not run, and she did not back down, and deep down Lorel respected her for it. It did not change the circumstances though. She stabbed a finger at her chest.

"Where the fucking hell have you been, Genne Silverleaf? And don't you dare lie to me."

Before her niece could do much more than open and close her mouth like a fish, Zarabethe and Elforen burst out of their bedroom. Her brother's hair was wild from sleep, but he had an axe in his hand and steady ferocity on his face. Her sister-in-law held her bow at the ready, but as soon as she saw the interloper, she dropped it to her side and gasped.

"Genne?"

Her niece flinched. For one long, vulnerable moment, Zarabethe's face showed all the pain and fear that she had held inside at her daughter's disappearance. It was hard to see, and even harder to watch her sister-in-law smooth the emotions from her face. Lorel was so incensed she saw red. Barely able to hold herself back, she shoved her niece in the shoulder.

"Answer the question!"

Elforen had jumped at her when she shoved Genne, and put a heavy hand on her shoulder. For being so broad-shouldered, he moved surprisingly quick. He pulled her back slightly, and she could feel the barely-contained strength in his large hands.

"Lorel." His voice was low, but she could sense the threat behind it. No matter what, he would defend his daughter first. She shrugged his hand off forcefully, but she kept her arms locked down to her sides, no matter how much she wanted to throttle her niece.

"What are you doing here, Genne?"

The spark of defiance that had been building in her niece's face ever since the first time she released her ear finally opened up. She pulled her hand away from her bruised ear as if she was angry at herself for even showing how much it hurt.

"I am allowed to be here, Lorel, this is my house too. What's your Light-damned problem?"

Lorel fairly bristled with anger, and she saw Elforen take a step toward her in her peripheral vision.

"My problem? What's my problem?"

Genne's eyes narrowed as Lorel struggled not to completely lose her temper.

"My problem, dear niece, is your attitude. My problem, is that you have a loving home, with people who care about you, and you just toss it all away to gallivant wherever you damn well please. My _problem_ is how much heartache you are causing your family in your little search to find yourself and I'm fucking sick of it. And my _problem_ ," Elforen caught her arm and she swore to Cenarius if he did not let go she was going to go full cat and rip his head off, "is you were creeping around the room where my son was sleeping and trying to break in instead of coming around the front door!"

Genne visibly flinched at her last statement, and she opened her mouth to reply, but Zarabethe's quiet voice interrupted.

"I would be very interested in knowing why you were breaking in as well."

Genne's face flushed and she took a step away from her mother.

"Maybe I was trying not to wake anyone? It's the middle of the night, it's just common courtesy. Why is everyone treating me like a fucking criminal?"

Lorel sensed Elforen open his mouth behind her more than she saw or heard it—the notion was so automatic. "Language, Genne."

Genne's face darkened and to everyone's surprise, she turned on her father. "And another thing—I am not a fucking child anymore! I'm tired of living under your bullshit rules, listening to your stupid lectures, and having you monitor everything I do! I am an adult, I have been for awhile, and I'm going to do and say what I want!"

Zarabethe and Elforen both spoke at once.

"That's enough Genne."

"You are still my daughter Genne, and that means you have to still live by my rules-"

Genne's voice got rougher and higher the more wound up she got. "You know what I say to that? Fuck off. Shit. Hell. Asshole."

Elforen was apparently no longer concerned that Lorel would punch out his daughter, because he dropped her arm and moved in front of her, his face a dangerous shade of purple and anger in every step. "I've heard more than enough out of your mouth, young lady. If you're trying to convince me that you are an adult, than you are doing a piss-poor job."

Genne gave her father a look that could only be described as reckless defiance, and Lorel realized as her niece jumped unsteadily up onto a kitchen chair that Genne was still more than a little drunk. The pandaren girl shrunk away from her as if she wished more than anything she were somewhere else. Genne continued her rant of curse words as her parents yelled at her to calm down and Lorel started to realize that they were getting really loud and both Mae and Zane were asleep.

"Genne, get down right now-"

"If I have to drag you down I will spank you like the two year old you are acting like-"

"Shut your face everyone, Mae is asleep. Why am I the voice of reason here?"

"Lick my ass, Lorel."

"Alright you little brat, I'm going to drag you down myself-"

"What the hell is going on here?"

The last outburst was from Kalibose, who had come running in like his shabby robes were on fire. Genne pointed at him and nearly teetered off the chair. "So he is allowed here, and I'm not? Fuck that shit."

Zarabethe, her eyes blazing, finally got hold of her daughter's arm and yanked her down off the chair. Genne sat down ungracefully in the chair and despite her bravado, was looking a little green in the face.

"Your uncle, unlike you, has the decency to not act like a spoiled brat during the holiday. I don't even care anymore what your problem is Genne, but if you don't shut up and start explaining right now, I'm going to drop you off at Stormwind Stockades tomorrow morning for drunken breaking and entering. If you want to be treated like an adult, then that is what I will treat you like."

Genne's bright blue mohawk was damp with sweat and hanging down into her eyes as she glared at her mother. "You've just been looking for a chance to ship me off for a long time, Mother, here's your chance."

Zarabethe looked as if her daughter had struck her. "I—I can't even imagine where you got that idea, Genne."

Even though the argument in the kitchen was starting to simmer down, Kalibose's expression was getting more apoplectic by the second.

"None of this is important right now, will you all just shut the fuck up for a minute?"

Lorel poked him in the arm. "Why don't you shut up, big mouth? Your wife is the one sleeping."

Kalibose slammed one fist into his other hand, creating a shower of sparks in the middle of the kitchen. Every single face, from Zarabethe's with eyes full of unshed tears, to Elforen's with his mouth set in an angry line, to Genne, who was holding real estate on Azeroth's most sullen, misunderstood expression, turned to look at him.

He shook his hands as if the spell had stung them. "Now that I have everyone's attention, I need your help."

Kalibose's face had been frustrated, and now it changed into something else and she started to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. He caught her eye and Lorel could see clearly how scared he was.

"Mae's water just broke. She's having the baby right now."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: Update on time this week! With luck there won't be anymore weather-related delays. Illustration up on dA.**

* * *

Elforen pulled the laces of his fur-lined bracers as tight as he could. Zarabethe stepped over to help tie them securely before he slipped his riding gloves on.

"Just be careful," she murmured in a low voice as she helped adjust his cold-weather gear. The wind outside howled like a creature unleashed, and he understood her caution. A snowstorm like this could take someone's life if they did not know the way very well. Of everyone that was present tonight though, he knew that she trusted him the most to make it to Stormwind and back without getting lost and freezing to death. Elforen took a moment before he pulled his hood up to study his wife. As soon as Kalibose's words had sunk in, she and Lorel had run in to check on Mae, who looked more embarrassed than anything else. They had gotten her changed and the bed set up for her to be in labor, but it was obvious that Mae was not going to feel safe unless Brekke was there. Zarabethe had been too busy dealing with this emergency to worry much about Genne, but Elforen saw her glance into the kitchen, where she sat sullenly with the pandaren girl, and then quickly look away. Zarabethe pulled her fingers through her sleep-mussed hair and started to plait it deftly behind her head. Elforen let her get to the end and secure it with a hairband before he caught her chin in his gloved hand.

"I'll be back soon, and no matter what, we're going to settle things with Genne tonight. Just don't let her leave."

She closed her eyes briefly and the breath that she took in was unsteady.

"I am glad that she is here, don't get me wrong." Elforen didn't know if she was whispering because she didn't want Genne to hear, or because she was unsure of her own words. "I just want her to _want_ to be here. If she doesn't want to stay..."

She started to shake her head and Elforen stopped her. "Don't. Even if we want to tape her mouth shut, she would not be here if she did not care about what we thought. Don't let her walk away yet."

Zarabethe nodded, then pulled her face away and scrubbed at her eyes. "I won't. It's too dangerous right now anyway."

The muffled sound of heated words came from the other room and Zarabethe rolled her eyes before leaning forward to kiss him goodbye. "Please hurry as much as it is safe to do so. Otherwise you might return to find Kalibose locked outside."

He caught her face and held it a moment. "If you do that he will literally blow the door up to get in."

He was rewarded by a half-smile as he stepped back and pulled his furred hood up. He patted the bags on his belt to make sure he had emergency supplies, then nodded to her.

"I'll be back soon."

The wind greeted him enthusiastically as he pushed the door open. He ducked his head against it and kicked his way through powder out to the back of the house. There had not been near as much snow piled against the door as he had feared—now he saw that was because the wind was blowing it away as soon as it hit the ground. He was stepping through only a couples inches of snow, but the drifts against the northern side of the house were over a foot. The path out to the shop was completely covered, and in spite of the urgency of the situation he thought once again of building an awning between the two. That took up his attention as he slogged through the wind and reached the building at the back of the property.

Elforen and Zarabethe, though mostly retired as adventurers, had never balked at the hour-long hike into Stormwind from their house. Even when the girls had been small, they took turns skipping along and being carried. But over the years, as Elforen moved most of his smith work to his home shop and then his business grew so that he was having to make the trek to Goldshire every day, it was time to buy a horse. They would have both preferred a sabre, but a cat of that size would require a large area to roam and wild game to hunt. As it was, with little nieces and nephews running around, it seemed safer to have an herbivore.

Even with their space restrictions and having to share his paddock with other animals, Elforen was pretty sure their horse was spoiled. They had worked together on the stable all summer, and somehow it had gotten bigger and bigger until there were several stalls and room for at least two more animals. In his opinion, his wife spent way too much time in there sneaking him treats and brushing him until his coat shone. Emeril, as she indulgently named him, earned his keep though. He was a tough horse, strong about the shoulders and resistant to foul weather. He pulled the cart loaded with completed orders to town every morning, and he pulled it back home every day at noon loaded with supplies. In the evenings he ended up taking one or the both of them to town when they needed something, or they felt like getting out of the house.

Perhaps the horse wasn't the only thing spoiled in this household, he thought to himself as he kicked snow away from the door of the stable and pushed his way inside. He and Zara had grown down-right complacent: neither of them had felt the need to be away from their little homestead in years. As he geared up Emeril, making sure his saddle blanket was extra warm, he felt a tiny twitch in his gut that was very familiar. They had been working hard for a long time. Maybe it was time for a good solid vacation, a real one. Somewhere they hadn't been before. Somewhere that they could return to their roots and get away from all of the domesticity in their routine. Elforen snorted as he braced himself to step back out into the brisk wind. Somewhere that going to fetch the midwife in the middle of the night was not the most exciting thing to happen all week.

After the relative shelter of the stables, the brisk wind nearly took him off his feet. Emeril, good horse that he was, did little more than duck his head and set his hooves. Elfore patted him on the neck before he grasped the saddlehorn and pulled himself up. Vacations, mundane life, and his growing spark of wanderlust could all wait-first he had a niece being born at his house and a wayward daughter to contend with.

The wind whipped around him and tried to upset Emeril's footing as they took off down the road. The way was hard to navigate—the winding road to their house was little more than a path. Elforen had wavered back and forth between widening the road for passability, especially in inclement weather, and leaving it slightly overgrown for privacy. Of course, it could be as wide as several carts and it wouldn't help much tonight. He ducked his head down and kept his eyes on the road through the slit between his scarf and hat. He mostly gave Emeril his lead, and let the horse pick his way through. Two years of the same routine, and it left enough physical memory that soon they were out on the main road between Stormwind and Goldshire. Elforen turned the horse to the north, and the way was quicker after that.

He pushed Emeril as hard as he dared: a bad fall in this weather could spell death for both of them. The road to Stormwind, however, was wide and recently repaved just this past summer. With the exception of curves that the trees caught the snow and swirled drifts around, the road was free of snow and instead it was the wind that he was most concerned with. It bit his face fiercely as he traveled to the human capital city.

By the time he reached the main gates, he was cold down to his very bones and his knees ached. This was not a snow that would blow in overnight and be melted off in a couple days. This was a blizzard, and he had a feeling that no matter what happened tonight, for better or worse, they were going to have house guests for several days. There were two guards stationed at the open portcullis which did not surprise him at all. It had to be well past midnight now. What did surprise him was they did not stop him. The right hand side guard waved him on through and Elforen didn't stop to argue with him-he kept up his brisk pace as the road turned into cobblestones and the wind abruptly died down as he and Emeril passed under the archway that would take them into the city proper.

Nothing but a few magical lampposts and some snow-dusted evergreen wreaths greeted him from the darkened shops in the Trade District. It was the middle of the night on Winter's Veil—there was only one place open, and he could see the lights from the Stormwind Infirmary as he took a left into the roads along the canals. Now that he was nearly to his destination, he began to feel the urgency of his mission: yes, Lorel was a competent enough druid, even if she was the wrong specialization. And he trusted Zarabethe to have a calm head in a crisis and she did after all, give birth twice. ( _three times_ ) Over the years though, Mae had become the sweet, kind little sister he had never experienced, and he wanted more than a scared emergency—he wanted her to feel safe, for everything to go well and happy. This was a family affair after all-and Brekke was needed.

He made himself slow Emeril down as they traveled through the canals to the Cathedral District. He would help no one if he slipped and they both plunged into icy water. The horse must have sensed the tension in him, because as soon as they entered the archway that took them away from the canals, Emeril broke into a faster pace, kicking up puffs of snow as he went right up the stairs of the hospital and pulled to a stop. Elforen slid down onto the ground, trying to shake feeling back into his hands and feet. There was a foot-high drift up against the door of the infirmary, although by the much larger drifts around it, it appeared to have been recently swept. He kicked it out of the way the best he could, and pushed the door open.

The air inside the hospital was much warmer than that of outside, and after he manhandled the door shut again, he stood for a moment, letting the feeling return to his face and extremities.

"There be a broom right beside the door, clean yer mess."

Freyda didn't even look up from her paperwork as she called out to him from the front desk. He felt a grin creep onto his face as he located the broom and started to dust the snow off his gear and boots. He had no idea how old the dwarf was now-she'd been there when his sister fell of the guard tower and was in the hospital for weeks. She'd been there when Zarabethe had lost their son. She's been there when Genne had jumped off the roof and broken her arm in two places during the phase where she was very jealous of her sister and wanted to be a druid too. Elforen got the feeling that long after he was buried and gone Freyda would still be here, running the front desk and reminding people to clean up their own mess. He called out to her as he knocked snow off his boots.

"I need to talk to my daughter, Freyda, is she busy?"

"Nae, we got 'ardly any here tonight, with tha storm."

Freyda signed off on a paper with a flourish before setting them aside and leaning back in her chair.

"Wot kind a' 'mergency drug ya out 'ere, anyway?"

Elforen swept the rest of the snow to the side and leaned the broom against the wall again.

"Her aunt's in labor. I know Brekke's on duty, but she'd feel much more comfortable with her there. "

Freyda hopped up with more energy than anyone her age had any right to. "Oh! Well I will fetch her right quick. Don't worry 'bout us here, we'll manage fine without 'er."

The red-headed dwarf bustled off down the hallway and Elforen took a minute to rub his hands together and enjoy the warmer air. Better funding, a greater need in wartime, and just plain time had transformed the Stormwind Infirmary into a much more impressive structure than what it had been when Lorel was here for her hospitalization. There was now a proper training facility, specialized wings, and areas for all kinds of healers. It was now connected to the Cathedral so that paladins and priests could go back and forth for chapel and meditation. Elforen eyed the clean marble floors and decorative paintings hung on the wall. Compared to the bare room that he spent most of a spring season in, this was downright luxurious.

A soft tapping of feet came skittering down the hallway and preceded the shadow of his eldest daughter . He heard the tail end of her conversation with Freyda as she came around the corner.

"...and Mister Stonetalon's bandages are in need of changing again, I was about to get to it. Well, maybe I can still do it real quick, it doesn't take long and he's so fussy about them laying the right way-"

"Oh just git on out a' here, lass, the hospital won't fall down wit' out ya." Freyda admonished her sharply, but Elforen could see the approving crinkle of her eyes as she strode around the corner after her. "I'll call that new human girl in, she be needin' some more practice."

Brekke raised an eyebrow at the dwarf's comment. "Allison's too scared to even go in the room with Mister Stonetalon. I don't think she could turn the light on, let alone change bandages."

His daughter's shadow might have stretched half-way across the floor, but it did little to prepare him for her height. Somehow Brekke had gotten every tall gene between him and Zara. She was taller than the both of them, taller than Kalibose, and if she were to ever meet his older brothers, he bet she would give them a run for their money as well. Tall and willowy, she looked more priest-like and delicate than any kind of druid, even of the healing variety. But there was a sharpness and intelligence in her eyes that always reminded him of her mother, and he knew that as much as she was inclined to heal, she could take care of herself as well.

Freyda went back to her desk and hopped up on her stool while Brekke continued behind her to the break room. "That girl will do as she's told or I'll have 'er hide. She needs some toughenin' up."

Brekke yanked her healing smock over her head, freeing a cascade of blue hair that trickled down her back like water. She was the only one of their immediate family that kept her hair the traditional night elf length except for Zarabethe, and it hung past her waist. She called out to him as she disappeared completely into the room to put her smock away and retrieve her things.

"Hey Dad, Aunt Mae says she's in labor? Is she sure? It's a little early."

"Her water broke about an hour ago. Your uncle is already having a conniption."

Brekke emerged with her warm winter boots on and pulling a heavy wool cloak on over her clothes. Her healer's satchel was already over her shoulder, and she struggled momentarily with getting it set right on her shoulders. Elforen stepped to her and pulled the hood out from where it was tucked into the back of her cloak. He pulled it up over her head, and it was just ridiculous how much he had to reach up to do so. She grinned indulgently at him as she pulled on her thick gloves.

"Thanks, Dad. How's Aunt Mae doing?"

Elforen shrugged helplessly. "She's having a baby?"

Brekke was checking the contents of her medical satchel and stopped to give him a look. "That is not helpful."

He chuckled at her as he waved at Freyda and turned back to the door. "Well she was still mostly calm when I left, but she's nervous. Zara and Lorel are looking after her."

Brekke paused at the door. "Well, that's more information at least."

Elforen caught her arm as she reached to push the door open. "Wait Brekke, there's more."

She turned to him with a concerned look on her face.

"Your sister is here as well."

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline and her mouth dropped open. "Seriously?"

He nodded and reached around her for the door handle. "I'll explain on the way. Emeril's outside."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's NoteS: The illustration for this chapter is in process, and should be up by tomorrow.**

* * *

By the time they had ridden all the way back in worsening visibility, swept the snow away from the stable and gotten Emeril settled down into his spacious stall, Elforen was pretty sure he never wanted to see snow ever again. His hands and feet were numb, and despite how tightly he had laced his boots, snow had gotten down into them and was melting against his legs. Brekke was shivering like a leaf in the wind, and he couldn't be more happy to see his front door, even covered in a snow drift two feet tall. The wind might have calmed some on the way back, but the snow was picking up: giant fluffy flakes that fell quietly into each other and covered everything in a thick layer of white. By the time they had swept the doorway clean of snow, it had covered his cloak completely, and they had to dust each other off. Elforen breathed a sigh of relief in opening the door. Everyone was home under his roof-he felt like several pounds of worry slid off of him into the snow as they stomped their way in, trying to make as little mess as possible.

The warmth hit his face at the same time that the noise hit his ears: pained cries from the bedroom, hushed talking, and shouting from the back of the house. Elforen just stood there for a moment, soaking in the heat, and felt the fatigue of the hard ride he had just done. Time was hard to tell with the snowstorm outside, but it was probably close to three in the morning. Beside him, more full of energy than anyone should have at this time of night, Brekke was already shaking her cloak off and hanging it up in the closet. She neatly added her hat and gloves and boots, and Elforen smiled to himself as he slowly started to remove his cold-weather gear. Her attention to details and desire for orderliness came directly from her mother, and it was always evident when they were together how very alike they were. She swept past him in a rush, pausing only to cuff her sister on the back of the head where she sat over a cup of something hot in the kitchen.

"About time you showed up." Genne glared at her under the fringe of her sagging blue hair and as soon as Brekke stepped past her to her old room, made an obscene gesture at her back. The cries temporarily grew louder, and Elforen hurried to remove the rest of his snowy things and find out how Mae was doing. He reached the door of the bedroom just as Mae got quiet again. He peeked in to the doorway, anticipation in his chest. Mae was crouched on the floor, with her back pressed against the sideboards of the bed. Her silver hair was sweaty and had mostly come out of its ponytail, and Zarabethe was at her side, holding one of her hands and supporting her shoulder with the other hand. He frowned momentarily: Lorel should have been at her side as well, and where was Kalibose? He heard an angry shout from the room next to them, high-pitched, then a low sarcastic response, and he had a good idea where they both were at. Brekke threw her medical satchel off in one motion and knelt in front of Mae, speaking quietly to get her attention.

"Hey Aunt Mae, don't worry, I'm here. Cold hands." She pulled up Mae's tunic to touch her heaving belly, and Elforen dropped his eyes to the ground as a courtesy. He could hear Lorel and Kalibose continue their heated argument next door, and shook his head in impatience. He wanted nothing more than to toss the both of them out in the snow-who gets into a fight when their mate is having a baby? He crossed his arms and stood up to go out there, when he saw Brekke pull Mae's shirt back down and smile at her reassuringly.

"Everything's fine, she's just a couple weeks early. In fact, you're doing great: she should be here by the morning. A snow baby!"

Brekke beamed at her aunt, and Mae smiled wanly back at her. The relief in the room was almost palpable: Lorel was perfectly capable of telling a living baby from a still one, but Brekke was, for all intents and purposes, a professional. If Elforen had more than a few seconds' respite from the chaos of his house right now, he might have reflected on the notion that his oldest daughter was all grown up, and how proud he was of her, but he heard a shout that sounded like Kalibose was getting riled up next door, and he stepped closer to where Mae was shifting position so she could stretch her legs.

"Mae, do you want me to take Kalibose out for a bit, or do you want him in here with you?"

Mae didn't even hesitate as she used the bed to pull herself to standing. "Take him, try to get him to calm down. I'm not going anywhere for awhile."

Zarabethe flashed him a grateful look as she gave her arm to Mae. Elforen strode into the next room with purpose in time to hear Lorel hiss at Kalibose.

"You are stressing her out, you need to stop."

Kalibose's face was so flushed he looked like he had spent the summer in Stranglethorn getting a tan. "I am getting really fucking tired of people telling me where I need to be! That is my mate, and my child in there, and I am not leaving!"

Elforen didn't even pause; he slung an arm around his brother's shoulders and for once didn't get irritated at how he had to reach up to do so. "Hey there, Brother, you look like you could use a break. Come walk with me."

He didn't wait for Kalibose to reply, but pulled him bodily out of the room with his not-so-casual embrace. He was too surprised to resist at first, but once they got to the doorway where Mae was, he dug his heels in. He sputtered as Elforen pulled against him, trying to get him to walk past.

"For the last time, I'm not leaving Mae-"

"Go, Kalibose." Mae's voice came from inside, tired and no-nonsense. Kalibose looked in the room like she had told him to jump off a cliff. She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead and closed her eyes, but she seemed calm.

"Elf won't let you miss anything. Calm down some, then come be in here with me, okay?"

Brekke piped up from where she was digging through her satchel. "I've got her, Uncle Kalibose. She and the baby are fine, it's just waiting now."

Kalibose didn't answer, but he reluctantly let Elforen pull him away from the door into the living room. He hadn't noticed it before, but as he took his and Kalibose's heavy cloaks out of closet, he spotted a pair of blue violet ears and a tuft of red hair sticking out of a blanket on the couch. Lorel had at least transferred Zane to another room before getting into an argument with her brother.

He pulled his spare cloak around him and strode back through the living room, into the kitchen where Genne sat with her pandaren friend. She glanced up at him with wary eyes as he pointed a finger at her. "I'm going out to the shop, and you better be here when I get back. Both of you. We're not done talking yet, Genne."

She dropped her eyes back down to her mug, but he was pretty sure he caught a sulky "Yes, sir" under her breath, and satisfied, he continued out to the back door, Kalibose following reluctantly behind. Elforen grabbed the keys to the shop and with some effort, got the back door open. Kalibose stomped after him, moodily kicking the snow out of the way. Once they were out in the heavily falling snow however, he proved more useful-Elforen saw him cast several precise fireballs down the path, melting the drifts in front of them, so that when they got to the door of the shop, there was hardly anything blocking the door. He unlocked the door and quickly stepped inside without waiting for his brother. He'd been in here earlier today, but every iota of warmth had fled out of here with the snow, and he went immediately to the fire to warm the room up. As he opened up the vents and stoked the embers, he wracked his brain for something to say to distract his brother. He was obviously panicking and it wasn't helping anyone-stress was bad for a woman in labor, at least that was what he had gathered from his wife and daughter. Kalibose had always been high strung and overprotective of his mate, and Elforen could understand it. He was extremely protective over his family, and he hadn't been through a portion of the abuse that his little brother had. He felt poorly equipped to talk his brother down from his panic.

After a few minutes, the fire had built up enough that it was starting to warm the air around them, and he adjusted the vents to keep it at that level. He turned around, rubbing this hands together to warm them. Kalibose had been pacing during this process, and without preamble, he started talking.

"How do you stand it?" The pitch of his voice was climbing higher with every sentence, and Elforen's heart went out to him. He was _terrified._

"I mean, she's in pain, but she's supposed to be in pain."

Kalibose gesticulated in such an exaggerated manner that Elforen moved him a few paces away from the rack of forging tools. He didn't seem to notice-he wasn't even looking at anything at all. He dug both hands into his stringy blue hair and stared into the void beyond. "How-how am I supposed to be okay with this? I don't know what to do for her at all. What can I do, besides just say, Sorry you're in pain, but deal with it?"

Kalibose's eyes snapped up to his and focused on his face. "What if, after everything that's gone on, all the things that have already gone wrong, something happens? How in the world do you handle that? Especially after-" he gestured vaguely outside, to the northwest corner of the property.

Elforen, in spite of the years, in spite of the healed hearts and the time that he had had to come to terms with things, felt the familiar icy pit in the center of his stomach. _After you lose your only son._

Kalibose stopped his pacing, and slumped listlessly on a bench by the door. He leaned forward and held his head in his hands. "I'm losing my fucking mind."

For a few minutes neither of them spoke. Elforen crossed his arms and leaned against a support pillar. The only light in the room was the glow from the forge and it threw everything into deep shadow. With the wind died down almost completely, the air inside was still and waiting. He took a breath, and spoke.

"There is nothing that can prepare you for the process of witnessing the birth of your child, either your first or your fifth. Do you know how I handled it when it was Zara going through it?"

Kalibose lifted his head, his face a wasteland of raw emotion.

"I trusted her. I trusted my wife, because I can prepare, or panic, or yell, or whatever, but in the end, it's up to her, and her strength. Mae says it's the right time?"

This was something he'd been wanting to ask Kalibose when he had him alone, but he hadn't gotten a chance yet. Last year, right before Mae had gotten pregnant, she and Kalibose had bowed out of several family affairs due to her headaches. Both he and Zara had been concerned for her health, but he had not pried, until one day he had looked out the window to see his brother coming up the path to his house by himself. He had a look on his face similar to what he had now: wild with worry, raw with emotion, and needing an ear. He told him all about Mae's gift of prophecy, about how she didn't want to make a big deal about it, and how it seemed to be getting worse lately and neither of them had any idea what to do about it. It was in that moment of quiet confession that Elforen realized something that he hadn't ever put words to before. Here in Elwynn Forest, far away from the drama of Darnassus, they had built their own little familial unit. This was not, however, what made him sit down soundly in a chair in the middle of Kalibose's speech: he realized that in the hierarchy of this new family, he was the patriarch. He was the one everyone looked to when they needed a leader or a father figure, and the thought humbled him. He had listened with a compassionate ear to Kalibose, but could offer no real advice. It seemed to get better when she found out she was pregnant, but they hadn't had a time to speak of it again.

Kalibose nodded, some of the panic finally leaving his face. "Yes."

"And you trust Mae?"

His brother sighed, not without a little of his usual snark. "Of course."

"Then you just have to keep on trusting her. She'll get through it, you'll get through it, and it will all be worth it."

Elforen could see that Kalibose was calmer, and sat down opposite him on a stool black with soot.

"Either that or you're going to give yourself a heart attack before you even hit your hundreds."

Kalibose snorted, not quite a laugh, but his personality shone through his emotions, and it was a start.

"That would not surprise me in the slightest."

There was a noise at the door, a scuffling about, and both of them looked up, Kalibose immediately getting to his feet. Genne stepped in, her arms wrapped around her. She had gone out without a wool cloak or head covering, and big fluffy flakes dotted her unruly blue mohawk. She had exchanged her sullen glare for one of sheepish confusion.

"Sorry Dad, Uncle Kalibose, but Aunt Mae's calling for you. She says she has a headache?"

She shrugged as if the words meant nothing to her. Elforen saw a look of horrified realization come over Kalibose's face. He slapped the vents closed on the fire, starting the shut down process.

"Go Kalibose, we'll get this locked up. Genne, grab that window."

Kalibose bolted out the door without a word, and Genne hurried over to prop open one of the slatted windows that ran around the top edge of the building. Together they fanned the excess smoke outside.

"Dad, is Aunt Mae okay? She was making an awful noise."

Elforen shut the windows again, satisfied with the cleanliness for now. He led Genne out into the newly fallen snow. "I hope so. Let's get back in the house."

As soon as Elforen opened the door, he knew something was wrong. Mae was screaming-a wordless, nonsensical wail that chilled Elforen to the bone. This was not pain, or even grief, but fear. He caught Genne's shoulders and moved past her to rush into the house. He didn't know quite what he expected to see in Brekke's old room-swirling purple magic, objects on the walls crashing and falling, or more macabre, a gallon of blood, but the sight that met him was much more pitiable. Mae was kneeling on the ground crying with her hands pressed to the sides of her head. Lorel and Zarabethe were on each side of her, awkwardly patting her arms but it was obvious they had no idea what was upsetting her. Brekke was there with one hand on Mae's belly and she hummed softly to herself as she monitored both her and the baby's health. It was obvious that labor had progressed while they had been outside talking: there was a pile of towels on the floor and Mae was now wearing one of Zara's old nightgowns. Brekke had unpacked her medical satchel onto a nightstand that she had commandeered for the night. But Mae didn't even appear to be affected by her labor at all: her terrified cries had no rhythm and she didn't look like she knew what was going on at all. Kalibose was kneeling in front of her, and at the look on his face, Elforen stopped his questions and just stayed back out of the way. Kalibose was _calm_. He was speaking quietly to Mae, and although he wasn't happy at her state of mind, he was not panicking. He had completely put his own emotional state aside to help her, and Elforen didn't think he'd ever had as much respect for his brother as he did right now.

"Mae? I'm right here Mae, can you hear me?" Something changed in her face, and she lifted her head. It was like a blind person seeking the light-her head wobbled in place, and her eyes stared somewhere off into the corner.

"Kalibose?" her voice trembled. She sounded as if she were speaking far away, from wherever her mind was. She reached blindly for him, grasping at the front of his robes. "Kalibose, they're running, and they're screaming, oh Kalibose it's awful, someone is hurting me-"

Her voice broke off into a gasp and a moan as a contraction washed over her. Kalibose's face paled visibly, even from across the room, but instead of running or getting upset he held her against him, and whispered to her, his voice catching minutely in his throat.

"No one's hurting you, love. You're safe, I've got you."

"They're trapped, Kalibose, and everything is cold and oh it hurts so bad—"

"That's not you, Mae, that's far away from here." He stroked the side of face, and slowly her whimpers quieted and her eyes closed.

"What do you see, Mae?"

"Avalanche." The far-away tone of her voice was changing—with every word she sounded more like herself.

"Where is it?"

"Mountains. Snow. Wolves. Dun Morough?" As she spoke, she opened her eyes-they had been blazing much more fiercely, and now they shone their normal shade of silver. They were still slightly unfocused though, and he lifted her chin up so she could see him.

"That's not here. It has nothing to do with you. Come back here with me, just let that go."

She blinked, then shook her head. "I, I think-" and then several things happened at once. Brekke stopped her humming and leaned back from her abruptly. Mae's entire body stiffened, and she grabbed Kalibose's shoulder with one hand and the edge of the bed with the other. Lorel and Zarabethe had both scooted away when Kalibose got her attention, and so Mae managed to pull herself entirely to her feet, a low, growling moan coming from the back of her throat. Elforen took a step back, unsure of anything at this point. Was this part of her visions? Was something going wrong? Brekke got under Mae's arm and helped hold her upright.

"Just breathe, Aunt Mae, you're fine, just breathe." Mae followed direction, and stopped moaning to blow out air. Brekke leaned away from her to speak. "Mom, grab the blankets, its almost time. Aunt Mae's in transition."


	5. Chapter 5

**Illustration up on dA. Happy Christmas!**

* * *

In the hustle and bustle of Zarabethe grabbing blankets and Lorel looking slightly green while Brekke quietly called out orders, Elforen felt sorely out of place. He stepped out of the room completely and back into the kitchen. He half-expected Kalibose to follow him, but no one else came out. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, feeling nearly unsteady on his feet. Was it four in the morning? Five? Sometime next week? He stumbled over to the coffee pot sitting on the stove that someone had started several hours ago. As he heated it up, he glanced about the kitchen. Genne had returned to her spot and was staring at the dregs of her cup blankly. Her pandaren friend had laid her head down in her arms and was snoring. He made himself a large cup of coffee, and stirred a good amount of sugar into it.

Taking it carefully into his hands, he set it on the table between his daughter and her friend. He then made a big show of pulling out the chair and settling into it, completely putting himself between them. He then leaned over and grinned at his daughter wolfishly, who had leaned back from his invasion into their privacy. A particularly loud, growling cry came from the room right across from them, and Elforen recognized the sound- 23 years ago after all, the young woman sitting across from him had come into the world the same way, and he had been lucky enough to be right there with them. The thought sobered him up a little, although he didn't let it show. He calmly took a sip of his coffee—it was too sweet for his taste, and tasted a little burnt, but it was hot at least.

"You want to watch your cousin be born?" He gestured to the room behind Genne. She looked at him with horrified, wide eyes.

"Hell no." Elforen chuckled as he stirred his coffee.

"We all come into the world the same way." He tilted his head toward the sleeping pandaren. "Who's your friend?"

For a minute he thought Genne was going to continue her sullen silence, then she dropped her eyes back to her empty cup. "That's Kiki. She's in my defensive stance class."

"So you are still in training."

"Yeah."

"Here in Stormwind?"

"...yeah, for now. We were up in Hearthglen for awhile, but we got back a few weeks ago."

Elforen filed away the fact that she had been home for weeks, whether she had contacted anyone or not. He didn't mention it though, and instead took another drink of coffee, and pushed it to the center of the table.

"You ready to talk about you now?"

Genne had relaxed a little, but now she shut down again, her hands in her lap and her head turned to the side, just enough that she couldn't meet his eyes. She had tried to do something to her wilted mohawk—it was halfway sticking up out of her eyes, but the sides were still unruly. Her jaw was very obviously clenched together and Elforen could tell that whatever was going on with her, it would take time and care to pull it out.

"Not really."

He wanted to reach over to her, take her hand and show her that he was not threatening, but instead he made his voice as gentle as possible. "Come on Genne, we haven't seen you for months, and you show up here out of the blue. What's going on?"

Genne shrugged, crossed her arms over her chest defensively, then glanced over at the pandaren. She sniffed, then shrugged again, this time angrily, as if to hide the fact that she was upset. "I don't know, I just needed somewhere to crash, it was snowing." She sat up straighter and looked him in the face for the first time. "I was not breaking in though—I was just trying to get into my room first, but the window was locked. I didn't even realize it was Winter Veil."

"I believe you." Elforen stayed quiet, willing her to speak. It was so hard to talk to his daughter on a normal day, about normal affairs. But her face though-something was bubbling so close to the surface. She needed to talk.

Genne looked around the kitchen, at the pies covered on the counter, the decorations hanging on the wall next to the shelves with pans, and past the partition, into the living room where Zane was curled up in a pile of blankets on the couch. The Winter Veil tree decorated in the corner where it was every single year. Keepsakes from both her and Brekke hung in the living room. The paper from baby Kalibose's funeral framed on top of the bookshelf. Elforen held his breath, waiting. Genne sniffed again, and hunched her shoulders up as if she was afraid of someone hitting her.

"Look, if you don't want me here, I'll leave, no big deal." Her lip trembled, and angrily she rubbed one fist over her eyes. Elforen reached behind him and pulled a clean soft towel out of a drawer and carefully pushed it across the table to her.

"Genne, we always want you here, no matter what." She picked up the towel, but instead of wiping her face, she twisted it in her hands. Tears dripped down her face and her voice hitched in her throat.

"Not if you knew how I really was." She whispered this so quietly Elforen almost didn't catch it. He stilled in his seat. He pulled his coffee cup back over to him and took a drink to hide his anticipation.

"Why don't," he set his cup back in the center of the table and gave her his full attention,"you tell me all about it, and I'll decide for myself how I feel."

Genne sat stiff as a board in her chair, wringing the towel into a knot. "I just," she stopped and tried to clear the tears out of her throat. "I just, I don't want all of that, okay?"

She gestured to the room where her aunt was obviously bringing a baby into the world. Elforen frowned.

"You mean having kids? I wouldn't think so, not at your age." He was already gearing up mentally to give a lecture about waiting, and being emotionally ready for marriage and kids, but Genne was shaking her head vehemently. She untwisted the towel, then wiped her face and blew her nose.

"No, I don't mean right now, I mean ever. I don't want ANY of this."

She seemed to come to a decision. Dropping the towel on the table she pushed her chair back from the table and stood up.

"I don't want THIS." She made a sweeping gesture from her shoulders to her feet, and Elforen, try as he might, could not understand what she meant. This was his daughter: not very tall, closer to his sister in height. Lean but putting on more muscle every time he saw her: she was after all a fury warrior. He could hardly tell though, because her quilted armor was so bulky it completely covered any kind of shape she might have. Her blue hair, just like his mother and brother but into a spiky men's haircut. There was some idea niggling at the back of his head, but he couldn't hammer it down just yet. Genne seemed frustrated with his lack of understanding and was getting worked up.

"This right here," she pointed to her chest, "just disgusts me. I mean I can cut all my hair off, but fuck, if I could cut this," she poked herself right in the chest, "and this," she put her hands on her hips, "off as well I'd be happy. I mean who needs hips anyway, as a warrior? Who needs boobs? They're just in the way."

Elforen was trying very hard to understand, but it almost felt like his daughter was speaking a foreign language. "You mean you don't want to be a girl?"

As much as she had been adamant a few minutes ago, now she threw her arms up in the air helplessly. "I have no idea."

She slumped back down in the chair, but she did continue talking as she listlessly stared at the table.

"This is all I've ever known. How can I hate something so much when it's an essential part of my being? I was born this way, you'd think I'd be used to it by now. But I don't even know what I'm saying, it's not like anything can be done about it."

Elforen hated the look on her face: she was completely without hope.

"And all of you, my entire family, even Aunt Lorel, are all about the babies, and all about the families. By the Light, I don't even like men! I don't ever intend on using this equipment that I unfortunately have inside me. So I just feel like one huge fucking disappointment all the time. I know I'm not anything like you all, but I don't even know what I want."

She picked up the sodden towel on the table, blew her nose again, and threw it down. This, as opposed to everything that had happened before, made the pandaren flinch in her sleep. Genne sighed and pushed herself to her feet. She ran a hand backwards through her mohawk, spiking it straight up in the air.

"Sorry Dad, I didn't mean to dump all this on you. I'm just going to go, and then it won't get awkward. Pretend I never said anything if you want."

She actually got turned around and was to the partition between the living room and kitchen before he jumped up to catch her.

"Whoa whoa, just wait one second Genne." She stopped with a sigh, not even turning around to look at him. He caught up to her, and turned her around. She refused to look up at him, and stared at the floor between their feet. She did not try to leave though.

"Did I ever tell you the entire story of your Uncle Kalibose?"

Genne shrugged under his grip. "He got in trouble for practicing magic, and now he can't visit Kal'dorei lands."

Elforen shook his head. It had been years, but he could still feel the old anger simmering just under the surface. "That's not the whole thing.

"Your uncle Kalibose, my little brother, discovered he had a gift for the arcane. He was very young when he found this-he was only fifteen. He hid it from our parents, until one day he was discovered by a cousin. He was tried and sentenced, _by our father,_ to be banished forever. He was fifteen, Genne."

She lifted her head, confusion on her face. "But wasn't magic illegal back then?"

Elforen nodded. "Technically, it still was. However, he was underage, and magic was so close to being made legal that less than ten years later, he wouldn't have been punished at all. Our parents were so upset that he had done something against what they wanted, that they pursued the highest form of punishment, short of being put to death."

Elforen took a deep breath. The most painful story was yet to come.

"You are aware, that although both men and women are allowed to pursue a career in both the druidic arts and the path of the warrior, this was not so as few as fifty years ago. And my family clung to the old ways.

"I was expected to be either a priest, or a druid. As you well know, I don't have a lick of druidism in me. And I have neither the talent nor the patience to be a priest. I played it off as long as possible, but finally, I found the only thing that I was ever any good at, the only thing that I wanted to be. Unfortunately, at that time it was still frowned upon for men to train into the Sentinels. I had to train on the side, with an old dwarf that had set up a blacksmith shop in the port of Darkshore. I had to sneak out of our home and travel for miles just to learn from him, but learn I did. I excelled in every weapon that he taught me, and also in the art of creating weapons and working with metal. When it came time that I could no longer hide my secret, I created for my father a dagger, the most beautiful thing I had every made before. It was forged from mithril, which at the time was very expensive. Trade paths between the continents were not open then. I presented it to my father, begging for his understanding, asking him to look beyond the gender roles that our society had been forced into. He did not."

He was still holding onto Genne's shoulders, but now it felt more to hold himself up than to keep her from leaving. He remembered his father's reactions as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. First he had laughed at him, not believing that he had actually created the weapon himself. Looking back now, he was embarrassed at the craftmanship, but at the time, he had been quite proud of himself. For his father to ask him what kind of tradesman he had been swindled by for this hunk of twisted metal had hurt, and it tempered the rest of the conversation with anger. It ended with his father throwing the dagger into the fire and telling him that until he could act like a real man, like a real Kal'dorei, he never wanted to see him again.

Elforen shook himself out of his memory and continued. "The point, Genne, is that magic makes Kalibose happy. He's good at it and it makes him complete. Being a warrior makes me happy. Besides taking care of you all, being with my family, working with metal is my favorite thing in the world. And there is nothing wrong with any of that.

"My parents are wrong. They threw away a relationship with two of their sons and their only daughter because they were too caught up in forcing their children into these preconceived roles that we had no interest in following. I will never do that."

He dropped her shoulders and gestured to the rest of the house. "To any of you. I don't care if you shave your head bald, then staple the cut hair to your chin to make a beard, you will always be my child, you will always be my Genne, and I will always love you."

Genne started laughing, a short choppy sound intermixed with tears running fresh down her face. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight, tighter than she had in years. He held her just as close, not wasting one second of her infrequent affection.

"Love you too, Dad," she whispered against the threads of his woolen sweater.

They were so engrossed in each other that it took him a few minutes to realize that for the first time since they had all been woken up in the middle of the night, the entire house was quiet. It took him even longer to remember why the house _shouldn't_ be quiet. Elforen lifted his head, frowning as he glanced to the door of the bedroom. He heard a sound, a kind of choking sob, and fear gripped his throat. He dropped Genne and practically ran for the doorway. Surely not, not with both Brekke and Lorel here, not when everything was going so well this time?

Before the thought could even coalesce in his mind, he heard the noise he had been waiting for: the gurgling squawl of a newborn.


	6. Chapter 6

**Since we are on ice storm number two of the season, I am going to go ahead and wrap this up just in case we lose power again. This is the final chapter, and everything ends well. Notes at the end, illustration up on dA.**

* * *

To his extreme chagrin, Kalibose had always been an easy crier. He had cried when he got hurt or picked on as a child. He cried when his brother left. He cried at his banishment, and he had cried more than once in front of Mae when the conversation got heavy. But this morning, as he was holding his wiggling, snuffling, so new she barely knew she was in the world daughter, he cried in front of everyone there and did not care to hide it. Mae laughed, not at his tears, but joyously at the mere existence of this tiny pinkish-purple being with folded over ears and little fists and legs curled up to her chest and the most beautiful face on the entire planet. He lifted her up, and Mae took her, and that was when she opened her mouth and showed them that she had a voice.

Kalibose couldn't speak, he couldn't hope to stop his tears. All he could do was sit back on his knees and watch Mae's face as she cooed at the baby, lightly stroking her fingers over her face. The dawn was just breaking outside, and sparse, grey light filtered through the window to light up her face. And Kalibose knew, more intimately than he knew his own name, that this was the most precious, important event to ever happen in the history of time. Mae, holding their daughter, both crying and laughing at the same time. Around him the other women in the family, his sister, his sister-in-law, his niece, all spoke in excited hushed voices, and as a group came up to admire his little family.

 _His little family._

There might be demons outside, fire might rain from the heavens, the very ground could heave up terrors never seen before, and nothing would pull his attention away. His focus was only on Mae, her radiant face and her wet cheeks and her arms protectively around their child as Brekke leaned over and put two fingers on the baby's forehead, just briefly. She smiled and hugged Mae with one arm, and fresh tears spilled out of his eyes again. It didn't matter. There was perfection in his life right here in front of him, and whether he was emotional about it or not made no difference.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and slowly, as if he were emerging from water, he came out of his reverie.

"Congratulations, Brother." His brother pulled him into a hug, and Kalibose was so surprised he didn't try to flinch away. He thanked him, or at least he thought he did, even though all the words that came out of his mouth were choked with tears. Elforen laughed, not unkindly, and let him be. More people came up to him, and finally, Kalibose started to feel self-conscious of his emotions. He scrubbed at his face half-heartedly just as his sister threw himself at him.

"Oh Kalibose, she is the most precious baby ever (besides mine of course) and I'm just so proud of you, you gigantic twerp of a brother!"

She was crying _on him_ , and he awkwardly patted her on the back as he tried to shove her off of him. "Thanks, brat. I think."

To his immense consternation she pulled him down and kissed him soundly on the cheek before letting him go. He stumbled back from her, and wiping at his face, forgot about her. Forgot about all of them, because Mae was reaching her hand out for him. He took it as he knelt down beside her, and she leaned over so that she could tuck her head against his shoulder.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You alright?"

He nodded. Bringing his other hand up hesitantly, he cupped it around the baby's head. _His daughter._ He tried to sniff back his tears, then gave up. No point in even trying this morning.

"You did it," he whispered.

She smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. "We did it."

She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, as if to ask permission. He nodded, and she sat up to speak to the crowd in the small room.

"Her name is Amaryssa."

* * *

It was incredible, really, Kalibose thought to himself as he shifted minutely on the couch and tried to stifle a yawn, how much sleep-deprivation one could muscle their way through if the situation was important enough. Mae had woken him up abruptly only about an hour after he had gone to sleep. They'd been up all night, and Amaryssa was born at dawn. There had been some time spent afterward on technicalities-doing laundry, getting everyone involved cleaned up and redressed and trying to figure out just how a cloth diaper worked anyway. And of course trying to coax a very wide-eyed and uninterested newborn to have her first meal. By the time that was done, Zara had coerced her daughters to help her in the kitchen and the smell of homemade muffins was drifting through the entire house. And so the night turned seamlessly into Winter Veil morning, and everyone was in more of a holiday spirit than ever. It was midmorning now, and muffins had been consumed, coffee had been brewed in mass quantities, and to his nephew's delight, the presents had been opened and were now being enjoyed.

Kalibose shifted again, stretching his legs out as far as possible without disturbing the bundle cradled in one arm or Mae snoring against his shoulder. Mae had held out as long as possible, gleefully exclaiming at the baby gifts and never letting Amaryssa out of her sight. She had finally decided to get hungry about an hour ago, and after feeding her, Mae handed her off to him, and curled up against him, asleep in moments. This was the second time he had held the newborn basically unsupervised, and he was determined to just let them both sleep as long as they needed. Mae had worked very hard last night, after all.

Carefully, he smoothed Mae's hair down with the hand that was around her. It had not been combed properly after her rushed bath earlier, and it stuck out around her ears in tufts. There were dark circles under her eyes and the too-big shirt she was wearing was bunched up around her arms and slipping off one shoulder. Without a doubt, she was the most beautiful person in the entirety of Azeroth, followed closely by the baby sleeping quietly in the crook of his arm.

Between the two of them though, he was getting too warm and sleepy himself. Cradling Mae's shoulders, he leaned forward, and got settled a little bit more comfortable. She snorted in a very unlady-like manner, then slid down so that she was laying in his lap, which was a little bit easier to handle. The first thing he did was scratch at the neckline of his new wool sweater. Zarabethe had gotten it for him for Winter Veil, and it was too big and too itchy. He at least was getting to the point where he expected some article of too-big clothing from her, and thanked her politely before pulling it over his head against the chill seeping in from the outside. At least it was warm.

And starting to get uncomfortable. To distract himself, he gazed around the room at the rest of his family. Directly to his left, right under the tree, were Zane and Lorel. One of his nephew's many presents this year was an entire army of little wooden soldiers and they were completely enthralled with it, setting up battles and then knocking them all down in epic victories. As he watched, Lorel picked up a robed figure and held him high above the others.

"But all of a sudden, the shaman summoned a windstorm! Whoosh!" And she brought the figure down in the center of the toys, scattering them across the floor as Zane threw his head back and laughed giddily. Kalibose kicked a figure that had landed at his feet back at her.

"Aren't those Zane's toys?"

"We share." She didn't even look up as she started setting them up again. "Don't be a stick in the mud."

He snorted at her, but it only got the attention of his nephew, who jumped up and ran over. Zane tried to climb up on the couch into his lap, and Kalibose nearly leaped on top of it to hold Amaryssa away from him.

"Whoa there, kid, you can't sit with me right now, I'm holding the baby."

Zane settled for leaning over the edge of the armrest and sticking his face way too close to her. Kalibose fought himself from yanking her away from him. Zane stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked on them thoughtfully as he watched her sleep. Kalibose was acutely aware of drool running out of his mouth and down his hand, and he cringed as it dripped down onto his sweater.

"Dat your baby, Unca Ka'bose?" Zane spoke around his fingers, and _for fuck's sake spit flew everywhere_ when he talked. Kalibose made himself very calmly pull Zane's fingers out of his mouth and used the collar of his shirt to wipe his chin.

"Yes, this is your cousin, Amaryssa."

Zane held still for a moment, and his hand crept back in his mouth. Kalibose scooted his daughter another inch away from him. Zane looked up at him curiously with his warm gold eyes.

"Can 'Ryssa play war wi' me?"

"Hey!" Lorel called from across the room. "I thought we were playing!"

Kalibose smirked and ruffled his nephew's hair. "Not yet. Give her a couple years. Why don't you play with your Momma?"

"Otay."

Zane bounced back over to the tree. Kalibose used his sleeve to wipe spots of drool off of him and inspected Amaryssa just in case. She slept on, her tiny puckered mouth not even moving as she rested from her ordeal of being born. He used one finger to carefully smooth out her eyebrows, which were indicated by little wisps of silver hair. He had known that she would have silver hair-Mae probably could have drawn a picture of her, she saw her so clearly in her vision. He hadn't been prepared to actually see Mae's coloring on this tiny dark purple face, though, and he wondered if he would ever get used to it. Or would every time that he saw her, he would again be taken aback by the very idea that she existed, this tiny blend of he and Mae that had her own personality and life?

Abruptly, he pinched his nose with one hand and squeezed his eyes shut. He had to quit doing that, he was going to be crying all day. Blinking furiously, he again looked out over the rest of the living room. His brother, except for Mae, had the hardest job last night. He was the one who had gone out in the storm to fetch Brekke. He hadn't been asked, just immediately assumed it needed to be done and went to get his cold-weather gear on. Right now he was leaning back in the armchair and snoring unabashedly as everyone else enjoyed their holiday morning. He still had on the same green sweater and black pants he had been wearing the night before and Kalibose made a mental note to stop anyone who tried to wake him up to join in. He deserved his sleep.

"Will wonders never cease."

Brekke's voice right by his ear startled him enough that Mae made a sleepy noise and snuggled closer against him. He glanced up at her. His niece was leaning over the back of the couch and held a new mug of coffee in her hands to warm them. She had run out into the snow without packing anything, and the outfit she was wearing right now was both too wide and too short on her slim frame. She caught his eye, and nodded her head to the other side of the room. Right next to the bookcase and partition, stood Zarabethe and Genne. Genne had her head down meekly and was speaking to her mother. Kalibose couldn't hear what they were saying, but Zarabethe's eyes shone from over here and she was nodding her head in understanding. She put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, and hesitantly pulled her into a one-armed hug. Genne accepted the affection, and when they separated, she had a hint of a grin on her face. She stomped back over to where her pandaren friend was sitting as much in the corner as possible and tried to put her arm around her. The pandaren scooted away from her and frowned, and Genne shrugged nonchalantly and left her alone. Kalibose had literally no idea what had happened between them or what the pandaren had to do with anything, but he was content not to know at this point. Something had been settled, and they weren't fighting.

"Mom and Genne aren't arguing. I think this is the longest they've gotten along in years."

Brekke continued talking over his shoulder. She took a drink of her coffee, then reached down and carefully stroked Amaryssa on her head.

"She's doing perfectly. Your wife is pretty awesome, you know that."

Kalibose nodded, starting to get irritated at his rebellious leaky eyes. "I do know that. Thank you for being here, Brekke."

"My pleasure. She didn't really need me here anyway." Brekke stood up from the couch and yanked at the bottom of her pants in irritation. "Hey Mom, are you sure you don't have any longer pants here?"

"You know where my closet is."

"If I have to get into your closet, I'm going to rearrange it."

"Do you have to reorganize everything when you come over?"

"Nothing in here makes sense. I make it make sense."

"Next time I am in Stormwind, I'm going to break into your apartment and move _everything_."

"Oh yeah, well then I am going to mix up your books before I leave."

Kalibose smirked to himself as he tuned out the rest of their argument. He slid a little further down into the couch, and decided his new sweater wasn't that itchy after all. He was just about to slip into the quiet of sleep when there was a sharp rap at the door. He jumped enough that Mae opened her eyes and blinked, and Amaryssa startled in his arms. Elforen let out a surprised snort from the armchair and sat up, and Lorel was the first to make it to the window to peek out. She made a high-pitched noise and threw the door open, letting cold air in.

"Baby!" She squealed, and jumped directly into the arms of none other than a snow-dusted Tzun'do, who laughed and hugged her back. He stomped his great feet and came in, shutting the door behind him. Kalibose had scowled and pulled the blanket up around Amaryssa when the door was open and now that the door was shut, uncovered her face. Zane finally looked up from his toys and saw his father, and took off across the room.

"Daddy!"

Tzun caught his son around the waist and lifted him high up in the air. Zane giggled and threw his arms above his head.

"Toldya I'd make it back in time." He said to Lorel, who hadn't let go of him yet. Without letting go of his son, he swung a large pack down off his shoulder like he was Greatfather Winter himself.

"So, what'd I miss?"

* * *

 **Thank you for reading this year's edition of the Winter Veil Special. I am taking a hiatus after this until the first of February (ish, not sure which day) to work on Scepter Two, called "The Song has Ended (But the Melody Lingers On)" It's been a big ol' fluff-fest here in Scepter Land recently, I think it's time to bring some angst back :D. I will be also working on a family tree and a big cover art for Lingers that I will post in the meantime, as well as updated character sheets for the main characters. Hope to see you then!**


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